Fruit
by MidnightsNightmares
Summary: He's never noticed that intoxicating scent, nor how pleasant that fresh fruity breath was. What were they doing? [In which Togami realizes just how perfect Fukawa's imperfections make her]


Ridiculous. This was all bullshit. It made no sense, nor a bit of logic.

Togami hated her and just what the hell did he think he was doing? None of this was right. This scene wasn't right. He was sick. He had to be. There was no other explanation because he hated everything about her. But why wasn't the thought of her making him gag now? He hated her ugly, imperfect, disgusting face that was plagued with that eyesore of a mole. He hated her filthy black school outfit that fitted her to what looked like a size too small or a size too big. He could never tell.

He hated those braids, which seemed to move perfectly in motion with her on her every movement. He hated those eyes, to which he could feel burning into his back where she stood only a few feet away when he placed himself in the library to read a book. He hated that mouth, which would only spew out the most horrible and unintelligent words he had ever heard in his life. He hated those arms, which would hug around her small body when she felt threatened or humiliated.

He hated those hands, for when she sneezed, those thin and nimble fingers possessed a weapon, turning into whatever the hell you could call Genocider. She certainly wasn't a human being, and for some reason, he couldn't call her a demon either. Just because he saw the other ugly girl that served as the dominant ego. And he knew for sure that Fukawa wasn't...that awful.  
It honestly hurt to think that.

He hated those shoes. They made the most annoyed squeak whenever she walked the halls, giving him a clear sign she was there to breathe down his neck.

That breath was awful. It stunk of fruit, which she sometimes ate in the mornings for breakfeast.

He couldn't avoid that fruit now, since that mouth that carried that pleasant fruit was placed on his. Togami never noticed it before (because he didn't care enough to get any where close to her), but Fukawa had a rather nice scent to her. Perhaps it was because she finally took that bath he had been demanding she should take. A fantasic idea.

But of course, that didn't matter, he just wanted to know why he was letting this happen. He was so confused, but refused to show it. Just because he couldn't get a grasp on the situation didn't mean he should act like a fool.

Right now, that ugly face seemed beautiful when covered with the slight shimmer of sweat and her cheeks dusted with the brightest of pinks. When that outfit was pressed up against him, and yes, it was pressed against his body. And those braids were tightly held in his fists, mixed with a bit of her clothing together. Those eyes were shut softly, and that mouth was against his, sending the weirdest tingling sensation down his throat, past his heart until it settled a pleasure-filled lump in his stomach.

And those arms were currently tightly wrapped around his neck, holding him like he was something speacial. Those hands fisted his hair so tightly in her grasp, much to his dismay. The messiness of it would be unbearable to face once this had passed and he'd recovered. But it didn't matter.

And those shoes? Long forgotten at the front of his room door.

Yes, Togami knew quite well he was, as the commoners would so intelligently put it, 'making out' with Fukawa. He shivered at the revolting thought, but just couldn't let it take over because all of this felt _so damn right_. Fukawa seemed to notice his shuddering and pulled away, looking at him with those large, pitiful eyes behind those fogged up glasses. "I-I'm sorry, Byakuya-sama...d-did I do...something wrong?"

_Yes, you idiot_. He wanted to reply. Scold her for making him feel like this. For degrading him and bringing him to such a lowly level so they could interact in such a revolting way like they were. Togami felt disgusting-like such a dirty plebeian.

But, then again, he didn't mind.

Because he was so drunk off of the scent of fruit, for one. And the pleasure he recieved from this was unbearable.

Yes, he, Byakuya Togami, Heir of the Togami family, was craving more of a lowly, dirty, disgusting peasant named Touko Fukawa.

What a true fool he was.


End file.
